


The Deciding Factor

by MiHnn



Series: The Dark Arts [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiHnn/pseuds/MiHnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason why he was constantly vigilant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deciding Factor

The ' _Cooking Cauldron_ ' was a place so awful and filthy that it had a charm no wizard could deny and any witch would certainly avoid. 

And yet, Alastor Moody enjoyed going to the pub on a weekly basis. He sneered at whoever sneered at him and scowled at whoever stared, choosing to sit in his favourite spot, nursing a Firewhisky, with his back to the wall and his eyes studying the comings and goings of the riffraff and their suspicious behaviour. His eyes would follow them all until one individual hidden under a cloak would slip into the seat opposite him and start a casual conversation while Alastor used to grunt in response. 

Yes, he really did enjoy the unusual charms of the ' _Cooking Cauldron_ '...until everything changed. 

Limping into the pub, his good eye gave a cursory glance while his magical eye studied everything; from the toppled tables and fallen debris to the group of wizards who huddled together in the corner where he usually sat. As he moved closer, a familiar wizard with a long white beard turned to face him, his features grim while his eyes were sympathetic. It was he who moved away first before the rest of the group took a few steps back so that Alastor could see the damage for himself.

On the table lied a familiar face with an unfamiliar body surrounded by blood. Robert Floret, former Death Eater and Alastor's contact, had his face untouched, but his body was mangled with several dark spells that had contorted the positions of his limbs. His right arm was engorged, his left arm green while both his legs had boils and scratches that were signs of well known, painful hexes. Alastor stared at the steady stream of oozing bile and blood from the victim's throat, wondering which sick bastard had the sense of humour to poke holes in their victim with the intention to kill. His expression was something that Moody had a hard time looking at. 

It was worse that what he had expected, worse that what anyone, including Albus had told him had happened. He knew this man; he knew him for years. No one deserved what the Death Eaters had obviously done to him.

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

"No," Albus Dumbledore stated forlornly as his gaze studied the bloody mess. "No one does."

"I should have known. I should have been more careful," Alastor snapped, disgusted with himself. 

Albus sighed. "There are certain things that, try as we might, we can't stop from happening."

Alastor gritted his teeth in anger. " _I_ should have known better. _Constant Vigilance_!" He laughed bitterly. "I'm the fool here." Turning on his heel, he limped fast towards the pub door. 

Albus watched him leave in surprise. "Where are you going, Alastor?"

"To buy myself a bloody flask," Alastor cried over his shoulder. "Let them try to put Veritaserum into what I drink ever again. Let them try!" he roared before he stepped outside, slamming the door shut behind him with a loud thud.


End file.
